


Worth the Cost

by danpuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff
Summary: Severus pays the Dursleys for a "visit" with Harry Potter.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 26
Kudos: 293
Collections: Snarry 💜





	Worth the Cost

Mrs. Twynam, of Number 3 Privet Drive, kept an eye on the residents of Number 4 all Friday. It began that morning with Mrs. Dursley’s irritated demeanor while tending her garden, and the clipped tones she used when Mrs. Twynam greeted her. 

The scrawny boy was out and about most of the day (causing trouble, no doubt) but Mr. Dursley shouted after him to be home no later than seven for dinner. The son (such a sweetheart) was bullied out of the home by his mother shortly thereafter. 

Just after lunch, when Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were heatedly arguing in the kitchen, Mrs. Twynam called Mrs. Hartford of Number 5. This was only after Mrs. Twynam’s failed attempts to listen in while needlessly touching up the paint on her fence. 

Mrs. Hartford had no input of her own, but they watched from their windows as the Dursleys traveled from room to room, hissing out their disagreement too quietly for anyone to hear. 

Just before seven, the son returned, then the nephew. And at seven on the dot a car pulled into the drive. It was an old, rusty black sedan that looked as though it would fall to pieces if the wind blew wrong. A tall, thin man exited the vehicle. Even from her window, Mrs. Twynam could see the man needed to wash his hair. And Mrs. Hartford noted the shabby state of his gray overcoat. Beneath it, a faded suit peaked out, complete with a dark red tie that barely stood out against all of the black. 

When the man knocked on the door, it was Mr. Dursley who answered, rushing the mysterious visitor inside. His face was quite purple when he caught sight of Mrs. Twynam, and his grin looked rather sickly when he waved to her. Mrs. Twynam blushed at having been caught and waved back. 

And when the door closed, Mrs. Twynam rushed for her phone to dial Mrs. Hartford again. There was much speculation to be done this day.

* * *

Petunia Dursley reluctantly rose from the sofa when Vernon ushered Severus Snape into their home. Dudley glanced uncertainly between his parents, but rushed to politely greet their guest and offered to take his coat. Harry alone remained seated, slouched in the armchair. He examined the man speculatively, gaze dropping down to the dark red tie, then back up to the black eyes. Snape raised a brow in turn. No one spoke for a long, awkward moment as Dudley put the coat away.

“Welcome to our home, Snape,” Petunia said. Her attempt at graciousness failed her, tone instead cool and clipped. 

“Please, call me Severus, Petunia,” the man said, amused. “We are not strangers.”

Petunia clucked, biting back words that would do no good. Strangers, no, though she wished they were. He had been a no-good, troubled boy and had grown into a no-good, troubled man. Her skin crawled seeing him here. She wanted to screech at him to leave, but Vernon was making a face at her behind Snape’s back. Eyes wide, head tilting, gesturing with a sharp flick of his wrist. So Petunia mustered a smile - or a grimace, more like - and excused herself to the kitchen to check on dinner. 

“Potter, it appears your manners do not improve over the holidays,” Snape commented. 

Harry glanced at his uncle and cousin, expression unreadable, then returned to his professor. “Can’t dock points over hols, can you?”

Snape smirked at him unkindly, looking him up and down. “No. You shan’t lose any points for your rudeness, Potter. Nor your unfortunate state of dress.” Snape turned to Vernon. “I did think he would be more…presentable.”

Vernon flushed, beady eyes darting nervously around the room. “I - erm. Ahem. Boy! Go - go smarten yourself up!”

“’Smarten myself up’?” Harry repeated. He looked from his professor to his uncle, dumbfounded. “How do you expect me -”

“No arguments!”

“But -”

“Do as you’re told!”

Harry blinked.

“Hurry, boy!”

Harry hopped up from his chair and ran upstairs, looking over his shoulder as he went. Snape watched him go. Dudley looked between the men curiously, but spoke not a word. Vernon managed what might pass for a smile. “Brandy?”

* * *

At the dinner table, Harry sat slouched in his chair, poking his roast beef with a fork, glaring mutinously across the table at Snape. With no nice clothing of his own, he was dwarfed in oversize khaki trousers tightened with a belt, an oversize pale blue button-down, and topped off with an atrocious yellow bow tie. Snape's smirk grew more and more amused the longer the silence stretched. 

“What are you even doing here?” Harry finally demanded. 

“I’ve come to negotiate with your aunt and uncle,” Snape replied. 

“Er - perhaps -” Vernon cut in.

“Negotiate _what_?” Harry asked.

“The price of your virginity, of course.”

There was a clattering of silverware against china as Dudley gaped openly at the man. Petunia glowered at Vernon across the table. Vernon’s eyes dropped to his own food, shoulders hunching in. Harry barked out a laugh, but his fingers were clenched tightly around his fork. Green eyes moved from cousin to aunt to uncle, then back to professor.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice blank. “What?”

“You are still a virgin, correct?” Snape asked.

“ _What_?”

“Have you been touched by another man?”

“N-no!”

“Very good,” Snape said, turning to Vernon. “Have you any thoughts on my initial offer?”

“Aunt Petunia!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Hush, boy,” Petunia hissed. 

“But!”

“ _Hush_.”

Vernon half-heartedly glared at Harry as he fiddled with his glass. “Well, you see…I - that is, Petunia and myself -” Petunia gave an indignant look as she straightened in her seat, and Vernon hastily continued, “I thought, that is, that - well, the boy is valuable, isn’t he? To your lot?”

“Some might say so, yes.”

Harry turned to Dudley. “Is this really happening?”

Dudley gaped at him like a fish. 

Petunia’s eyes were glued to her plate, cutting herself small bites, taking careful sips of her wine, and meeting no one’s gaze, responding to no questions. Harry and Dudley watched in horror as Vernon and Snape haggled prices. Vernon raised points about Harry’s _value_ to the Wizarding world, the _value_ of virginity, not to mention the _risk_ the Dursleys were taking, entertaining such an idea to begin with. Snape, for his part, argued the boy’s rudeness, his lack of suitable attire, and the reasonable cost of a whore. Between the car he drove up in and the state of his own clothing, he was not drowning in funds. The Dursleys should be grateful, really, that anyone was willing to pay them for the boy at all. 

By the time Vernon and Snape shook hands on a price, Harry was lower than ever in his seat, eyes downcast. 

“Eat up, Potter,” Snape commanded. “You’ll need your energy.”

* * *

After dinner, Vernon led Harry and Snape upstairs to the smallest bedroom. Before leaving that morning, he had been directed to tidy up, to scrub it spotless. Now he understood why. Harry watched his uncle leave the room, but Vernon did not look him in the eye as he barked, “Behave yourself, boy.” 

The door closed behind Vernon, and was locked. Harry cast a wild glance to Snape. “This is a joke, right? Just…some ploy to get me out of here sooner. Right?”

“Take off that ridiculous outfit,” Snape said, sitting at the end of Harry’s bed.

Harry licked his lips. “What?”

There was a glimmer in the black eyes that sent a shiver down his spine. The velvet voice followed like a caress. “Strip.”

Here he was, being whored out by his own family, and he was _getting hard already_. Bizarre, this whole night was bizarre, and he was sure he’d wake up any moment. Bad enough he had _these sorts_ of dreams about Snape during the school year, really. Embarrassing, even. 

Harry gave himself a pinch as he worked off the bow tie, and again as he worked down the row of buttons. Black eyes followed the movements of his hands as they dropped to his belt. This gave him a moment to breathe, putting off the moment everything came off. But soon he ran out of zips and buttons, and did not allow himself to hesitate shrugging out of his shirt. The trousers were already falling down his legs, and required little work to kick them off completely. 

“Do you think I’m going to fuck you with your shoes and socks still on, Potter?”

Harry swallowed through the dryness in his throat. “You’re - you - what?”

“Idiot,” Snape sighed. “Remove them, Potter.” 

The nice shoes were as large on him as the rest, and easy enough to toe out of. Rather than join Snape on the bed, Harry balanced on each foot to remove the socks. Task complete, Harry hugged himself, training his eyes on the peeling wallpaper as Snape looked him up and down. 

“Underwear now, Potter.”

Harry did not move. His heart was thundering in his chest. Snape was in his bedroom. Snape was paying his aunt and uncle to have sex with him. And Harry had…Harry had stripped down and now…and _now_ …

Snape did not ask again. Instead he approached Harry. Cool fingertips grazed down his sides. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, goosebumps erupting over his arms. Slowly - so slowly - Snape grabbed the cotton briefs and guided them down Harry’s legs. Once they hit his ankles, Harry obediently kicked them off, but did not open his eyes. Not until those cool fingers wrapped around his heated length. He let out a stuttering breath, hands shooting out to grasp Snape’s shoulders. 

“Your tie’s red,” Harry whispered.

“I know,” Snape said. “Get on your knees.” 

Something shifted in Snape’s eyes when Harry did not move. The man leaned in closer, breath warm on his face. “Shall I kiss you, then? Would that help you relax?” he mocked. 

Harry shook his head and, in response to the hand on his shoulder, sank to his knees. Heat rose to his face, remembering every fantasy he’d had about just this. And he watched, half-sick, half-fascinated, as pale hands tugged at belt and zip. As a thick, red cock was pulled free from dark cloth. And as one hand stroked the heavy length, pale fingers of the other sank into Harry’s dark mane, guiding him closer. 

“Mouth open, now,” Snape instructed. 

“I don’t…” Harry began, but trailed off at Snape rose a brow at him. The man waited expectantly. Harry looked from the black eyes, to the red tie, to the waiting cock in front of him then, hesitantly, parted his lips. Snape huffed out a laugh, tracing Harry’s lips with the head of his prick. 

“Wider,” Snape said. And without thinking about it, Harry widened his mouth, until Snape was pressing just inside. Harry sat very still, hands clenched into fists in his lap, breathing heavily through his nose. “Go on, Potter. Suck me. Suck me like you’ve been dreaming about for _months_.”

Harry whined, even as his cock jumped eagerly. He was already naked, already paid for, and Snape _knew_. God, of course he knew. He could play shy or - he could just - go for it. Uncertainly, he lifted one hand to wrap around the base as he took more into his mouth. Too much, in his excitement, gagging five seconds in. “I had no idea your mouth was as unpracticed as your arse,” Snape sneered as Harry pulled back to cough. “I might have paid less.”

“No wonder you have to pay for it,” Harry snapped, but did not hesitate to dive back in. Just because Snape was a jerk didn’t mean Harry didn’t want to explore, from the wet slit down the impressive length to the heavy balls. His hand stroked wherever his mouth didn’t reach, his free hand moving to palm himself. 

It didn’t matter how much of a jerk Snape was, or that Snape was paying for this, and it didn’t matter how fucked up it all was, because he liked the sound of Snape’s voice, whatever he was saying, and he liked how heavy Snape was on his tongue, and how full his mouth was. He liked the salty taste of his pre-come, and he liked the fingers stroking through his hair. _He liked it, he liked it, he liked it_ , and he hated himself for wanting more. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Snape hissed. “Enough.” The man yanked his head back, panting as he stared at Harry’s wet mouth. Harry gasped, wincing in pain at the tight grip in his hair. “I don’t think you’re quite up for swallowing, are you?”

“I could try,” Harry breathed.

_What?_

Snape chuckled as he brushed his thumb across Harry’s swollen lips. “Perhaps next time. I paid good money for you, Potter, and I want your arse.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Mmm. Liked that, did you?” Snape asked, tugging Harry up. “We’ll make a proper whore of you yet.” Harry barely had his feet under him before Snape was pushing him face first into the bed. His pulse picked up when he heard the rustle of cloth behind him, but all Snape removed was his tie. Leaning over Harry, he wrapped the red material around his wrists, binding them together in front of him. “So you remember,” Snape murmured into his ear. 

Harry peered over his shoulder. “Are you -”

“Going to fuck you? Yes,” Snape replied, pulling a small vial out of his pocket. “There’s never been another? Male or female?”

“N-no. No one.”

“And why is that? Pretty boy like you,” Snape purred, coating his fingers with the lubricant. 

“Uh…” One finger sliding between his cheeks, tapping against his entrance. That one sensation alone had his thoughts fleeing. “Um…”

“Countless fans have been throwing themselves into your lap the past year and more,” Snape said, his finger pressing now, gently. “Were they not good enough for the famous Harry Potter?”

“D-didn’t-” Harry shifted his hips back, until the finger began to sink inside. “ _Oh God_. Didn’t - want them.”

“You’ve been gagging for my cock since you were fifteen.” As the finger slid deeper, another hand slid beneath him to stroke lazily at his cock. Harry moaned, hips jerking, unsure if he wanted to move backwards or forwards. “Are you telling me your pretty young classmates weren’t doing it for you, but _I_ was?”

“I-I-” Harry stammered. A second finger was joining the first now, twisting inside of him. Was he supposed to be able to formulate thoughts like this? 

“No, no pretty face for you, Potter,” Snape murmured. “You have a strange fetish for ugly, mean, old men, don't you?”

“ _Fuck_. Fuck me.” Harry wasn’t thinking, really. Wasn’t sure if the words meant anything or not, but Snape was pulling his fingers free.

“Very well.” 

He felt the blunt head pressing against him, and Harry scrabbled at the sheets. Two surely wasn’t enough, Snape was too big. His arms jerked, but they remained together, held fast by the tie. “Snape, I-” But his professor grasped his hips and Harry winced as guarding muscles gave way beneath the relentless pressure. Harry whimpered, pulling his arms beneath him, pressing his bound hands to his mouth. 

The sensation of being stretched so wide was more overwhelming than the pain. He breathed through his mouth against his skin, held very still, because he was so _open_. Vulnerable. The slide was immense, and seemingly endless, like Snape would keep on forever, until Harry was nothing but stardust beneath him. 

But it did stop, eventually, with Snape’s hips flush against his, Snape’s mouth at his shoulder, greasy hair tickling his skin. “Alright?” Snape murmured into his ear.

“G- _go_.” 

Snape made a low noise in his throat and lifted himself, hauling Harry by the hips back further onto him. Harry squeaked. The man gave him no time to adjust, just held him down and _fucked_ him. It was a fight, pushing into the tight channel, thrusts growing smoother as it loosened to his demands. 

It didn’t matter if it hurt, and it didn’t matter if this was his first time - it didn’t matter because Snape had _paid_ for him, and Harry was his to _use_ , Harry existed for _his pleasure_. 

And that was all he’d thought about all year, wasn’t it? Just Snape pushing him to his knees or bending him over a desk, using Harry’s mouth and arse and hands to get himself off. How many times had Harry gotten himself off just thinking about it? 

And Snape _knew_. He knew and he was _here_ and he was -

And his _family_ \- they were downstairs. And they knew, too. They knew Harry was up here getting pounded by his professor. They knew, because Snape told them what he wanted. Snape paid them for what he wanted. And Harry was sobbing and screaming and pleading, “ _Yes, fuck me, yes_ ,” and they could probably hear him. His voice was growing hoarse, but he was mindless, writhing as much as he could beneath Snape’s hands, struggling against the tie. 

He was hot all over, burning up from the inside. He was melting and exploding all at once. 

“ _Fuck_! Potter-” Snape grunted and he thrust in sharply, as deep as he could go, and he was coming - filling Harry right up with his release and Harry trembled. Just knowing that - that Snape had come in him - that he’d gotten Snape off -

Harry was being flipped over, then. Snape grabbed the loose end of the tie and yanked Harry’s arms over his head and pinned them there. His other hand was on Harry before he knew it, stroking him as if he’d never stopped. Sure, firm strokes that had Harry’s legs kicking out, hips bucking up, wailing wordlessly as he spilled into the man’s hand.

* * *

As Harry lay panting on the bed, Severus grabbed the hideous blue shirt from the floor to wipe his hand clean. Severus shook out his limbs then set himself to rights, tucking in his shirt and refastening his trousers. Once he was straight, he rejoined Harry on the bed, tugging the tie loose. 

“Happy birthday, brat,” Severus said, kissing his temple.

“Hmm,” Harry smiled and slipped his free hands around Severus’s neck, pulling him into a proper kiss. “Thank you.” 

For a time they laid there, naked body pressed to clothed body. Harry’s fingers toying with buttons, Severus’s stroking down his spine. It was rare to fully enjoy the afterglow; there was never time within the confines of detention or extra lessons. Never enough time to just bask in one another. And they had a whole other year ahead of them, meeting clandestinely and praying they would not be caught. 

“Are you really going to pay them?” Harry asked after a while.

“Of course. We did have a bargain.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, but I wasn’t exactly a virgin this time.”

“No. I’m just paying late for the honor.” 

“Will you Obliviate them?”

Severus snorted. “I don’t think they’ll be telling anyone what they’ve done.” He bumped his nose against Harry’s. “Do you want me to?”

Harry grinned. “No.”

Severus’s lips quirked up. “You like them knowing.”

“Mhm.”

“Pervert.”

“Mhm.” 

It had only been a fantasy, really, but Harry found he did like that they knew. He liked that someone knew, even if they didn’t know the whole of it. They just thought Severus was a filthy old man paying to have sex with his seventeen year old student. 

They didn’t see the softness in those black eyes as he gazed down at Harry, thumbs tracing the shape of his cheekbones. They didn’t see Harry’s tender kiss for the tip of the hooked nose, or for the thin lips below. They didn’t see the _”I love you”’s_ that went unsaid. 

No one would see that, not for another year. But as Severus lifted Harry’s hand, to kiss wrist and palm and fingertips, Harry knew it was worth the cost. Just this. The way Severus touched him and looked at him now - it was worth anything.


End file.
